


The Tread of Time, Step By Step

by donutsweeper



Category: Kung Fu: The Legend Continues
Genre: Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 23:46:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16565441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutsweeper/pseuds/donutsweeper
Summary: It'd been twenty years but Peter was still there, keeping the city safe.





	The Tread of Time, Step By Step

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cloudtrader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudtrader/gifts).



_"Who's going to keep the city safe if you go?"_

_"Oh, I think I'm leaving it in good hands."_

— Peter Caine and Paul Blaisdell, S2E22 "Retribution"

* * *

His door being closed did little to muffle the constant noise from the squad room. It was something that annoyed most captains - the continual clacking of keys, the constant ringing of phones, the chatter of detectives, and the general hubbub of the everyday ins and out of police work that never seemed to stop - but Peter loved it. He'd done his time at other stations but none had sounded quite like the 101st. He didn't know why; maybe it was because it had been his first station, not only the first he'd worked after getting his gold shield, but also where he'd eventually become chief of detectives and now, finally, captain. 

All that made for very good reasoning why the 101st would always have a special place in his heart and felt like home in a way no other ever would, but Peter knew it was due to more than that. He had learned not only about being a cop here, but, thanks to Paul, it had become intricately become a part of what he'd wanted to be, and had eventually become, as an adult as well. He'd always felt comfortable at the 101st, ever since he'd first visited it as a kid, and he loved the job. Mostly. The paperwork it led to however? He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. Weren't computers supposed to make all this easier? "Paperless office my ass," he muttered as he signed yet another set of requisition forms. 

After dumping the lot of them in his 'out' box he was debating on what task to start next there was a brisk knock at the door.

"Captain?" As always, Ramirez didn't bother to wait for an acknowledgement before entering.

His typical snarky aside about her barging in whether or not she’d actually been invited inside died on his tongue when he took in her appearance. She'd obviously just come into the building since still had flakes of snow in her hair, but it had been a harsh winter and sometime his detectives wanted to report something before they forgot it so that wasn't too out of the norm. Atypical for her though was the fact she was not only still wearing her jacket and scarf but she hadn't secured her weapon either, which was standard procedure and unlike some of his detectives she was a stickler for protocol. Adding that to the tension in her frame….

"What's wrong?"

"How did you," she began before shaking her head and continuing in a rush, "you know what? Never mind how. We need you down in booking. Immediately. Thomison brought in three small time runners from that gang that's been trying to get a foothold up on the north side and the Sarge was processing a lieutenant from the Greens and then Coop and I came in with Nianyu and—"

Before she'd even gotten halfway through her explanation Peter was rushing past her, heading for the stairs as fast as he could without attracting much attention or turning too many heads in the squad room; if the situation was as volatile as it sounded it might be having a horde of detectives descend on it was going to wind up making things worse rather than helping matters any. 

Once he got to booking however, he wondered if he'd really done himself any favors by not bringing a crowd with him. It was utter bedlam down there. There was lots of yelling as detectives and uniforms were holding back and trying to contain various troublemakers who in turn were trying get loose so they could fight one another while numerous random other people who just happened to be in the station for one reason or another kept getting in the way and generally just adding to the overall racket and commotion. 

"Everybody calm down," he shouted over the fray, putting every ounce of no-nonsense steel behind his words that he could. Then one by one he began directing people as he moved through the crowd. He singled out various officers as he spotted them, ordering them to grab their charges and contain them by either getting them in lockup or cuffed to chairs. At the same time, as quickly but gently as possible, he took bystanders by the wrist or arm, calming them as he either hustled them in the direction of the general waiting room or simply encouraged them to quiet down and move out of the way.

Within minutes things had settled back to their normal levels of organized chaos and he was suddenly on the receiving end numerous incredulous stares at what he'd accomplished. While he understood why that was, given the state of things when he'd arrived, he didn’t think it had really been all that impressive. His actions hadn’t been anything he hadn’t seen his father, both fathers, do a million times before. All he'd done was copy that commanding tone of Paul's that always had people jumping to obey before they even knew they were going to do so and used Pop’s way of clearing a crowd, the touches he used to cleave a path were there was no semblance of one before.

He'd just turned to the desk sergeant, about to comment about trying to keep a better control over the area in the future, when there was a flash of steel out of the corner of his eye. Instinct took over and in the same moment that he recognized a switchblade he jumped and spun around, raising his leg to turn his movement into a powerful kick delivered directly into his would-be attacker's chest and that sent the hapless idiot across the room and into the far wall, where he slumped down, either unconscious or well on his way there.

The near dead silence that followed, even without comparing it to the previous pandemonium, was notable enough it was almost awkward.

"Damn, Peter," a familiar voice drawled from the rear of the crowd, breaking the uncomfortable quiet. "I didn't know you still had it in you."

"I'm fifty, Kermit," Peter quipped in response. "Not dead."

Kermit held up his hands in that placating 'hey, you got no argument from me' way of his and said, "Well, if you're finished showing these losers how it's done I've compiled the parameters for those searches you asked for and I'll need you to sign off on the extra resources that'll be required to complete everything within the shortened time frame."

"More paperwork? Perfect, just what I need," he grumbled, but made sure it was obvious that he was joking and that his tone lacked any real heat. 

"Hey, without paperwork we wouldn't get paid," Kermit shot back.

Peter snickered, acknowledging the truth behind that. "I'll stop by the tech cave as soon as I'm done here," he continued since here was no reason to have Kermit wait for him and it would take some time to see to everything before he could leave. He had to make sure that the idiot with the knife was all right and that the EMTs had been called to check on him just in case, have witness statements collected about both the attack and his response, ensure the people who needed processing were properly processed and so on and so forth. 

Eventually though he was able to knock on the door to Kermit's office. "Thanks for saving me back there. I have a feeling if you hadn’t been there it could have gotten…." Peter trailed off with a shrug.

"Annoying? Unpleasant? Invasive? Not a problem." Kermit looked at him over his green glasses. "Those were some fancy moves back there. You learn them from your father?" 

"Which?"

"Which move or which father?"

"Either." Peter shrugged. "Both."

"Well, I recognized Blaisdell's ability to take control of a room, I've seen that enough times myself; I was referring to that spinning kick. It was a thing a beauty, my friend, especially the way you reacted so fast- you couldn't have more than a half second's warning he was going for you."

"Yeah, that move was all my dad's. And if you think _I'm_ too old to be doing something like that I dare you to come with me to Chinatown and tell him that to his face. You heard about how we finally arrested the guys responsible for that string of muggings that had put all those senior citizens in the hospital?"

"Don't tell me, someone actually tried to rob your old man?"

"Three someones," Peter corrected. "Although apparently now they, as my father was explaining to the uniforms as I arrived, 'have learned the foolishness of their actions'." 

"Otherwise known as discovering the rapid and sudden need for an ambulance to be called so they could be taken to the hospital?"

Peter nodded. "He was very apologetic about it."

"I'll bet." The usually stoic Kermit obviously tried to smother a snicker as he said it, but it slipped out, and Peter couldn't help it, he began to laugh too.


End file.
